Forbidden Love
by SnowHelm
Summary: Cailan Theirin is to marry Anora Mac Tir, but his heart belongs to another. (AU)


_**Author Note: **__A little one shot dedicated to Melysande, from the ramblings of my mind. Hope you enjoy._

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Dragon Age Origins or any of its characters._

**xXx**

Cailan stared at himself in the mirror and sighed, pressing his forehead to the cool glass surface. Today he would marry Anora Mac Tir and he was not at all happy about it. He turned and moved over to the window gazing wistfully out at the Palace gardens. The room suddenly seemed to close in on him, his heart pounding at the sensation of suffocation. He changed into tunic and breeches laying his wedding attire across the bed and slipped through the corridors to blessed cool air. He moved swiftly through the many gardens heading to his favourite spot, the rose garden. He took a deep breath, the subtle scent invigorating and soothing. He moved to the secluded retreat that was as cherished to him as the memories of his mother. He sank onto the convenient seat, feeling his legs tremble. Anora was beautiful and intelligent, but she was as hard and cold as the stone he was sitting on. She was the perfect embodiment of her father in female form. He shuddered at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her, not to mention the trial that would come when night fell and he would be expected to bed her. He glanced up at the rustle of boots on grass and felt his heart flutter with surprise as he sank into warm hazel eyes, tracing tantalising lips with his gaze.

"I thought I might find you here."

Cailan felt the heat of Fergus's body as he sat next to him, his heart beat quickening at the close proximity. "I tried for the docks, but the guards brought me back." The smile was forced and did not reach his eyes.

"Anora is a good match Cailan." It was meant to be supportive, but the sentence sounded hollow to both men.

"As Oriana was a good match for you?" The tone was bitter; tinged with anger and regret.

"The match could have been worse."

"Well I can think of nothing worse than being married to Anora Mac Tir!"

"Try being married to a poison mistress who is very aware of my apparently shameful past."

Cailan glanced at him curiously. "I thought Antivan's were supposed to be more liberated in their thinking."

"Some perhaps."

"Not Oriana?"

"No, not Oriana."

Cailan glanced to his clasped hands. "I really am sorry Fergus." He lowered his head. "Are you and your father on better terms?"

"A little perhaps. Marrying Oriana soothed him; though I will never be Teyrn, something that was made very clear to me." He smirked slightly. "Aedan is not impressed."

"Why?"

"He believes father is being foolish. Told him so in fact."

"He does not begrudge your … alternative tastes."

Fergus chuckled softly. "Hardly. He no more wants to take a wife than I did, or you do." Fergus shook himself and squeezed Cailan's shoulder. "Come you need to get ready, not skulk among the flowers."

"You did some skulking here yourself." Cailan muttered; memories of summer breezes, stolen kisses and pounding hearts flooded him with a need he could barely contain.

Fergus felt the stab of regret; the constant ache that niggled beneath the surface of his calm demeanour, his fingertips caressing blood red roses, the velvety softness of petals contrasting sharply with the prick of a thorn. He gave a hiss and drew back his hand watching the blood swell at the fingertip. His breath hitched as the injured finger was drawn into a warm mouth, the gentle caress of a tongue drawing a deep moan from his lips.

Cailan raised his eyes, smirking slightly as he continued to run his tongue against the captured finger. He sucked deeply drawing another tortured moan.

"Cailan for the love of the Maker." Despite his protests Fergus made no move to pull away from the Prince.

Cailan slowly drew his lips down the length of the finger giving a last little wicked flick of his tongue at the tip. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks flushed and for the first time that day and possibly since his marriage had been announced he looked happy.

Fergus's own cheeks were flushed and the unmistakable tightening of his breeches were a fierce reminder of his feelings towards Ferelden's Prince. "Cailan you do not make it easy to stay away from you."

Cailan closed the little distance between them. "I do not wish you to stay away from me." He whispered, his breath drifting across Fergus's lips.

"Cailan please I …" His words were lost beneath the insistent press of Cailan's lips against his. Fingers tentatively caressed his jawline, tracing down his tunic slipping beneath the soft material to trace rigid muscle beneath. Fergus shuddered and grabbing Cailan's wrists pulled him into the corner of the secluded garden, pressing the Prince against the wall and attacking his lips with a ferocity he dared only express in his dreams. Cailan's soft moans and exploring fingers urged him on, his lips pressing against his jaw, drifting to the throbbing pulse at his neck, his tongue swirling against soft skin.

Cailan clung to Fergus, pressing his hips forward against his needing friction as he claimed willing lips once more in a desire that was all encompassing.

Fergus suddenly put distance between them, his chest heaving painfully. "Cailan we cannot do this." His tone was filled with a longing that he was forced to keep denying.

Cailan couldn't bear it, having Fergus's touch again after so long had awoken his desire, but it was more than that. He loved Fergus and could no longer bear the forced distance between them. This time it was Fergus pressed to the wall, Cailan's eyes dark with need and an ache he could barely describe. "Fergus I need you. Maker you know I love you, you cannot keep denying what is between us."

"I am married!" He hissed.

"Yes and I am soon to be married and neither of us is happy!" Cailan snarled pulling back from him. He rubbed his forehead. "Fergus what I feel for you …" He hesitated. "It is not wrong Fergus; I do not care what our fathers say, nor for that matter what the Chantry says. How can something that feels this right be wrong? Our love hurts no-one save ourselves for being forced to be apart!"

Fergus sighed and leaned his head back against the stone, his voice little more than a whisper. "Cailan I am risking everything just being in your presence alone; I cannot do more, no matter how much my heart wishes otherwise."

Cailan glanced at him miserably and sank onto the seat. He remembered well the night they had been discovered together. He had never seen Bryce Cousland anything but calm and warm in manner, but the look he had given his son had been one of disgust and fury. Fergus had never spoken of what had happened after that, but six months later he was married and the two young men were never alone together again. He remembered his own father's uncertainty, his concerns that Fergus had corrupted him. He shuddered at the memory of being forced to the brothel night after night, the time endured under the attentions of every woman the brothel had to purge him of any corruption. Cailan would return to the Palace and bathe for hours feeling tainted. He knew the rumours of him as a womanizer and he hated it, the way the guards would hold him up as though each return from the brothel was a badge of honour. "You warned me it was unsafe to meet that night, yet I persisted. Everything that happened after that is my fault. Maker I should have listened to you." He clamped his lips shut closing his eyes, the consequences had ripped open his heart and it had never healed.

Fergus gave a weary sigh. "I could have said no."

Cailan gave him a searching glance. "Why did you meet me?"

Fergus looked up startled shaking his head at the uncertain look on the young Prince's face. "Have I ever been able to say no to you?"

Cailan moved to him then; no force could have stopped it, his desperation and yearning displayed in the fingers that clutched Fergus's tunic, in the lips that sought his mouth, the soft moan of pain and joy as Fergus yielded, a warm tongue easing into the Prince's eager mouth. Time stopped, consequence and reality suspended in the moment lips met.

Fergus grabbed a fistful of golden hair, his hand gripping a twitching hip as he pulled Cailan tight to him, a growl of need escaping his lips as Cailan's trembling moan seemed to rush through his body. Lips meshed together in an urgency that was crippling to both men.

Cailan drew in a shuddering breath as Fergus pulled his head back to gain access to his throat, a soft tongue moving a slow trail to his ear before lips enveloped the lobe drawing a ragged cry from him. "Fergus!" He gasped, fingers finding their way beneath confining material to the muscular chest and stomach he craved.

They froze at the sound of heavy footfalls flying apart hearts pounding painfully, both unable to bear the consequences that would follow being found. They marginally relaxed as Aedan came into sight.

Aedan saw the flush of their cheeks; ruffled clothing and hated that he had to be the one to break them apart, but better him than someone else. He glanced to Cailan. "Your soon to be father in law is looking for you." He turned to Fergus. "And you have been missed. Luckily you have an awesome brother and I hide when you took off; as far as anyone will know we have been walking, but we need to move now."

**xXx**

Cailan watched the Mother give her blessing of the union glancing to Anora, her eyes cast downwards. She glanced up and returned his tentative smile with a cold look. Cailan closed his eyes; he would do his duty for Ferelden, but he didn't have to like it. He took Anora's arm; and they turned to those gathered, the well practiced smiles from each drawing cheers from the crowd. He led Anora down the stairs accepting congratulations; a warm smile curling his lips, his eyes sparkling.

Maric smiled and leaned close to Loghain. "It seems marriage agrees with my son."

Loghain gave a grunt of agreement barely able to hide his surprise.

Cailan worked the room with Anora his thoughts helping him through the ordeal. The smile that lit his face was not caused by his bride; but by the sensation of Fergus's lips that still lingered on his own and of the promise whispered in his ear, that somehow they would find a way to be together.


End file.
